The Emperor's Men
by Palooka
Summary: A small unit of the Imperial Guard is suprised by an ork attack. With the help of a mysterious ork fighter from the Inquisition, Lieutenant Eli Moriah leads his men against the orks and avenges their fallen comrades.


Chapter 1  
Lieutenant Eli Moriah switched off his chainsword. As the whine of its engine died he held it out in front of him to let the cold rain wash the ork blood from the weapon's many teeth. The attack had come as a complete surprise, startling most of the soldiers, including Moriah, out of a fitful sleep. By the time the Lieutenant had rallied his platoon to repel the invaders; the squad that had been on guard duty was gone.  
Moriah looked around the area, seeing the bodies of third squad troopers, his troopers. They had sold themselves dearly. When Lieutenant Moriah had led the rest of his men out of the main building of the fort, the orks had seemed unorganized and had quickly fled in the face of the great number of Imperial reinforcements. The young officer's musings were interrupted by a medic calling to him,  
"Lieutenant Moriah! Please come over here sir!"  
Moriah sheathed his chainsword and made his way to the waving medic. The heavy weapon weighed down on his webbing, a feeling he had always found reassuring. The medic was kneeling in the mud next to the body of a guardsman. Looking down, Moriah took a sharp breath when he realized that the mutilated body belonged to Lincoln Sumner, the sergeant of third squad. Sumner had a ragged wound in his chest and his right arm had been severed by an ork blade. Moriah knelt down on the body's left side, across from the medic. He was surprised again when he realized that Lincoln was still alive. He could hear shallow wheezing breaths coming from the fallen sergeant.  
"We can't do anything for him sir," the medic explained. "I just thought you might want to be with him when he passes."  
Moriah nodded his thanks and then looked down at the sergeant. "Lincoln? It's Moriah."  
Sergeant Sumner's eyelids fluttered open and he focused on the lieutenant. His weak breaths caused a sucking sound from the wound in his chest as he tried to lift his head. The medic put a hand under the soldier's head, giving him the strength to face his officer. Sumner spit to clear his mouth of blood so that he could speak, stuttering weakly.  
"S-Sorry sir," he whispered.  
Moriah did not know what to say. The man was using his final breaths to apologize. Before the officer could come up with a response, Sumner continued.  
"They c-came out of nowhere, sir. W-We were totally s-surprised. I'm sorry."  
Reaching down, Moriah took Sumner's good hand in his own and squeezed it tightly. Sumner summoned his last strength to squeeze back.  
"You gave them hell, sergeant. Your men sold themselves dearly and you saved the rest of us. Well done." Moriah had to blink his eyes to clear the tears from them. "The Emperor remembers his loyal servants. Go to him in peace my friend."  
Sergeant Sumner smiled slightly at his officer's words and slowly the strength of his grip faded. Finally his eyes closed and the medic lowered Sumner's head to the ground. Within moments the soldier's breath stopped. Moriah looked over at the medic whose young face was streaked with tears. The Lieutenant hoped that his own emotions were not as obvious. He cleared his throat and began to issue orders.  
"Tell the surgeon that I want our men's bodies taken inside as soon as possible."  
The medic wiped his face with the back of a bloodied hand and nodded in acknowledgement. "What about the enemy dead, sir?"  
"Burn them."  
Standing, Lieutenant Moriah walked away from the medic and the now dead sergeant. He reached up and activated the micro-bead vox transceiver that he wore to transmit his orders to his men.  
"Sergeant Vance, first squad is to take up guard position on the wall. All sergeants report to me on the double."  
Within a minute the three remaining sergeants under Moriah's command were gathered around him. The rain had stopped falling and a curious calm had replaced the windy night. Master-Sergeant Clayton Vance had been the last to arrive, having first taken the time to place his squad on the fort walls, taking up the positions left by third squad.  
"Third squad has been decimated, I expect only one or two survivors," Moriah said, then paused solemnly. "I just watched Sergeant Sumner go to join the Emperor."  
Sergeant Hammond could hold himself no longer, "Sir, let me lead fourth squad after those bastards that ran away. There were only a few greenskins left, my boys and I will cut them down."  
Isaiah Hammond was Moriah's youngest sergeant. He was lithe and athletic with curly blonde hair. His fair features helped to make him a natural leader, but he could prove his worth in battle. A crack shot with a laspistol, he was also one of the better swordsmen in the platoon. But he tended to be overeager and sometimes his enthusiasm could get the best of him. Moriah was certain that the problem would fix itself with experience, but he always kept a close watch on Sergeant Hammond, ready to reign him in if need be. Now was one of those times.  
"Hold on Sergeant," Moriah said, focusing his attention on the fourth squad leader. "We are all incensed by this cowardly attack but we cannot go off half-cocked. I'm sorry, but I will not release fourth squad to pursue the enemy."  
"Besides," Master-Sergeant Vance interjected. "Those orks ran right towards the Western Forest. If they're hiding in there and we go charging in blinded by our anger, an ambush could take us apart."  
The Lieutenant nodded to his first sergeant, welcoming the older man's support. Vance was a large man, lantern-jawed and broad in the shoulders. Standing a head taller than Moriah, the hardened veteran had nearly twenty years of Guard experience on the young officer and was Moriah's most trusted advisor. He ran a callused hand through the thick grey bristles of his hair as Moriah continued speaking.  
"There has not been report of an ork presence on this planet for four years. With the rest of our company a few hundred kilometers away finishing off the rebels, I am a little worried about what this attack could mean. It may be a while before reinforcements can be released to help us."  
"Damn it all, this was supposed to be a rest an R&R assignment," said Sergeant Jeske sourly, breaking into the conversation for the first time. Ivan Jeske was the leader of second squad. Before joining the guard he had been a big game hunter. He still looked the part too, cradling a huge stormbolter in his arms. His shaved head was covered by the hood of his cameleoline cloak, which also draped over the ornate hunting knife that Moriah knew hung from his belt. He had become a very good scout hunting game on his homeworld, and he had passed that knowledge on to the men of second squad. They had all become accomplished scouts under his tutelage. Although he was a good leader, Jeske had an individualist mentality that had gotten him into trouble with previous commanding officers. Moriah had recognized Jeske's values and treated him more loosely than his other sergeants, often allowing second squad to operate independently under their sergeant's command.  
"I know it was," Moriah responded to Jeske's complaint. "But now things have changed and we may have a serious threat on our hands." The idea of an ork problem on the planet both thrilled and frightened Moriah. But he also felt as disappointed as Jeske.  
The Imperial Guard regiment that their company was a part of had been sent to this world to put down an insurrection, its companies spread throughout its four continents to fight those who wished to secede from the Imperium. In the first few weeks of the campaign, Lieutenants Moriah's platoon had distinguished itself in battle. When the fighting had begun to die down they were reassigned to defend an old Imperial fort some distance to the south of the city where their company had been fighting. They were to guard the fort while a team of tech priests restored it and prepared it to house a permanent garrison. Moriah and his men had seen the new assignment as a reward for their accomplishments in battle. Now one of his squads had been completely destroyed and Emperor only knew how many orks waited for them inside the western forest. It made angry.  
"I want you three to set a double watch on the walls. I'll leave it to you to determine the rotation. I'm going to consult with company headquarters and ask for further instructions," he focused on Hammond again, though he spoke to all of them. "Believe me, I want revenge for Sergeant Sumner and all the men of third squad who died tonight, but I will not run into a possible ambush, and I will not do anything that could weaken our position here. Dismissed."  
He returned the salutes they offered and turned to go, but then spun back around. "Sergeant Hammond?"  
"Yes sir?" he answered  
"Your flamer man, what's his name?"  
"Trooper Powell, sir," Hammond replied without having to think.  
"Have him meet with Surgeon Alexander. I want him to work with the medics to destroy these foul ork bodies."  
"Yes sir!"  
Hammond saluted again and hurried off to carry out his orders. Moriah walked back inside the fort, heading for the communications room.  
  
Chapter 2  
"Orks!" exclaimed the disembodied voice. "I hope I heard you wrong Lieutenant."  
"I'm afraid not major," Moriah replied. "My position was assaulted by an ork sneak attack not two hours ago. We beat them back, but the squad that was on guard duty was utterly destroyed."  
After returning to the fort, Moriah had hurriedly showered and donned a full uniform, complete with his peaked officer's cap. Then he had made his way to the fort's command center, grabbing a half-awake tech priest along the way. The command center had only been half restored by the team from the Adeptus Mechanicus Priests, but the long range communications gear had been in operating condition since the second day of occupation.  
  
"They must not have made a serious effort if you denied them so easily."  
The voice Moriah was hearing belonged to Major Gerard Rensing, the highest ranking officer in Moriah's company. He had already had to tell the story to two other officers in order to get to this man. Although the Lieutenant was a firm believer in the necessity of military discipline, it was times like this that made him hate the chain of command.  
"Sir," he replied. "My third squad sold their lives dearly. I don't know for certain, but I believe that they killed the ork commanders in the beginning of the battle. When I got to the fight with the rest of my platoon, the xenos seemed unorganized and they fought poorly. I have no idea what the intention of their attack was, but they fled quickly in the face of our numbers."  
"So a few of them got away then?" the Major asked.  
"Unfortunately, sir. I would have led my men in pursuit and hunted them down to the last, but they ran straight towards the Western Forest. I could not lead my half-dressed men into a possible ambush." As he spoke Moriah felt the anger and frustration he felt inside at not being able to avenge his men pouring into his speech.  
"Understood, Lieutenant," the Major responded. His voice grew soft and somewhat comforting. "It sounds to me like you and your men fought bravely and effectively. I am sorry to hear about the loss of your squad, but I know they gave their lives serving the Emperor," he paused for a moment, "You made the right decision to not pursue the orks just yet. You showed some cool-headed leadership."  
"Thank you, sir." Moriah said flatly.  
"This is a very serious matter, Lieutenant. Who knows what might have happened if your platoon had not been in that fort. I know you want to go after those damned greenskins, but I need you to stay put for now, while I take this to regimental command. I will get back to you as soon as possible. Understood?"  
"Yes, sir."  
With that the vox went dead, company headquarters had signed off. Moriah was glad that it seemed his commanders were taking the attack as the serious matter it was, but he had expected a little more in the way of direction. Of course, this was a matter for regimental headquarters to be informed about, but he hated to sit still when it was possible for them to be attacked by orks at any moment.  
Keying his micro-bead, the Lieutenant called for his head scout, "Sergeant Jeske."  
After a moment the hunter's rough voice came back to him. "Yes, Lieutenant?"  
"Meet me in the mess as soon as possible."  
"Yes, sir."  
Striding out of the communications room and into the fort's command center, Moriah found the four troopers of his command squad waiting for him. They were all fully dressed and armed. Trooper Coviello had his big plasma gun partially broken down and was cleaning a piece of it with a rag. When their Lieutenant came into the room they quickly stood to attention.  
"Report," commanded Moriah.  
Corporal Wilkes, his aide, cleared his throat and began, "Sir, there are only two survivors from third squad. Of the three taken to the infirmary after the battle, one succumbed to his wounds a few minutes ago. Another, Trooper Sarik is not expected to make it through today."  
Moriah's chest tightened. Death was a common thing when you lived in the Imperial Guard, but only two left out of ten? It was terrible. "Has Surgeon Alexander finished working? I would like to visit them after I am through meeting with Sergeant Jeske."  
"He had just finished when we got there, sir. He said he has done everything that he can for them, they are in the Emperor's hands now."  
The officer nodded solemnly. "And our defenses," he asked.  
"Very much intact, sir," Wilkes replied. "The orks used wooden ladders to scale the western wall. The ladders were painted black and the tops had been padded to prevent noise. I had them taken down and destroyed, sir. Also, Trooper Powell has begun to incinerate the ork bodies."  
"All of our own dead have been brought inside?"  
"Yes, sir."  
"Good," Moriah replied. The thought of having his men lying on the ground with the greenskinned devils was sickening.  
He pulled on his officer's cap and walked out of the command center, heading for the mess hall. Corporal Wilkes and the rest of Moriah's command squad fell into step behind him.  
"I am sending Sergeant Jeske and some of his men on a special assignment," Moriah informed them. "I want the command squad to fill in for them on guard duty."  
"Yes, sir," Wilkes acknowledged. "Second and forth squads are on guard duty right now."  
Turning a corner, Moriah could see Jeske waiting for him outside of the mess. "You have your orders."  
"Yes, sir."  
When Moriah stopped at the door of the mess hall, his command squad continued past him and the sergeant, heading outside to take up guard duty.  
"Reporting as ordered, Lieutenant," Jeske said with a salute.  
Moriah returned it, "Something to drink, Sergeant?"  
"I'd love some hot caff, sir," Jeske replied with a half-smile of appreciation.  
The officer led the way into the mess hall. All ready there was a large amount of activity coming from the kitchen. The mess staff had gone to work early, preparing meals for soldiers hungry from battle and guard duty. A steward saw them enter and Moriah asked him to fetch a cup of hot caffeine for Jeske and a mug of tea for himself. Once seated at a private table reserved for officers, the Lieutenant cut right to the chase, "I just got off the vox to company command, Major Rensing is very concerned."  
"Has he given us orders?"  
Moriah paused as the steward delivered their drinks, and then continued. "He wants us to stay put here until he can inform his superiors in Regimental headquarters."  
Jeske raised his mug to his lips, barely concealing a muttered expletive.  
"Enough of that, Sergeant. I have every reason to believe that our commanders are taking this entire matter very seriously. And I am going to follow my orders, just like you."  
"Yes, sir," Jeske replied.  
"It is my opinion," Moriah went on, "That in order to provide proper defense for this fort we need to know where future ork threats could come from." The Lieutenant watched a small smile spread on Jeske's face. The hunter was going to like this new assignment. "I want you to select up to five men from second squad and lead them to the edge of the Western Forest. You are to look for signs of where the orks who attacked us came from and I want to know if there are any trails into or out of the trees. You are not to go more than one kilometer into the forest. If you come across any number of the enemy you are not to engage them. Is that clear, sergeant?"  
"Yes, sir."  
"Take a long range vox with you and report back to me every six hours or if you make contact with any hostiles. I would prefer to take the fight to them, but if they come to get us again you might be able to provide us some warning."  
"What about the men I leave behind?" Jeske asked. Independent or not, he was a good leader.  
"I have given orders for my command squad to fill in any gaps you leave. Tell your men that they will answer to Corporal Wilkes or me in your absence." Jeske grimaced at this. Moriah knew that the sergeant's scouts were very loyal to him and some might buck a little under another person's leadership, and none of them would like being left behind. "I would let you take your entire squad if I could spare the men, Ivan."  
"I understand, sir." Jeske said as he finished his caff. "When do I leave?"  
"Get your men and kit up. Take everything that you'll need to live out there for a week. Bring them back here when you're done and get a good breakfast, then set out. Any Questions?"  
"No, sir."  
Moriah stood and offered his hand to the sergeant. "May the Emperor go with you."  
Jeske took his commander's hand and shook it firmly. Moriah could not help but remember the way he had held Lincoln Sumner's hand as the man had passed away.  
"Oh, I'm sure the Emperor will be there, Lieutenant," Jeske said with his familiar half-grin. "He wants to see those bastards dead just as much as we do."  
  
Chapter 3  
It was dawn of the second day following the attack. Lieutenant Moriah stood in the center of the western courtyard, in almost the exact place where Sergeant Sumner had died. The area showed almost no sign of the carnage of two days before. The ork bodies ad been removed and destroyed, the only evidence of their presence that remained was the ragged divots carved into the metal wall of the fort by their stray shots. The gouges contrasted with scorch marks left by the defenders' lasguns.  
The Imperial officer stood at attention wearing his full dress uniform. His polished boots reflected the bright orange of the rising sun that made the row of medals on his breast shimmer. Before him, nine simple wooden coffins lay stacked on a huge pyre. Master Sergeant Vance stood on one side of the pyre and Sergeant Hammond stood on the other, each held a burning torch and had also donned their best uniforms. Their squads stood behind them, facing the pyre and standing at attention. Moriah's command squad stood watch on the wall with second squad. They would hear their officer's words over their micro-bead vox links. Next to Moriah, seated in a wheelchair, was Trooper Dennen, the only survivor from thirst squad. He was missing his left leg below the knee and his lower face was wrapped in bandages because Surgeon Alexander had needed to wire his jaw back into place, and then sew his skin back over it. Trooper Saris, the other survivor had died seven hours earlier.  
"These men before you," began Moriah, "have made the ultimate sacrifice. They made this sacrifice because it was their duty and because they wished to serve the Emperor to the best of their ability." He paused and looked over the two squads arrayed before him. "We should all be so lucky as to meet the fate of these soldiers; serving the Emperor, the god of mankind, to the very last. I was with Sergeant Sumner when he died. His last words were an apology. An apology to me, his commanding officer, and an apology to his lord, the Emperor. Sergeant Sumner led his men with distinction and they gave their lives to save the rest of us, yet he was sorry for what he thought was failure in death."  
Moriah paused again, lost is his own thoughts of Sumner's death. He could remember the pain in Lincoln's eyes. If only he could have seen his death as his lieutenant had.  
"It was not a failure! He gave his life in glorious battle against the enemies of the Imperium, as did the Troopers who served under him. The Emperor saw their valor and I know that they have gone to be with him."  
Moriah nodded to Vance and Hammond. Slowly they strode forward, lowering their torches to the stacked wood of the funeral pyre. The promethium soaked timber caught fire immediately and flared brightly.  
Moriah continued his eulogy with a raised voice, "These men are examples of everything a loyal soldier of the Imperial Guard should be. We are the mighty arm of the Emperor. He guides us and we strike down his foes, filling his enemies with fear, and delivering his justice. As long as you fight for the Emperor, remember these men!"  
When he was finished, the Lieutenant walked towards the furiously burning pyre. He came to the point at which the heat was unbearable and knelt down on one knee. In this position he bowed his head and prayed to the Emperor. He asked that the souls of his men could find rest after their lives of hard fighting. When he was done, he stood and saluted the fire, then spun on his heel and walked back to where Trooper Dennen was waiting. As he was walking Master Sergeant Vance began to sing an old Imperial hymn. His gruff voice, strained from decades of shouting orders on battlefields, gave way to a full-bodied baritone that Lieutenant Moriah had enjoyed many times before. By the time he had returned to his place, every soldier present had joined in with the old sergeant. Moriah could hear second squad singing from their places on the walls. It was beautiful.  
Half-way through the song Sergeant Hammond shouted an order to his squad. Without missing a beat of singing they changed formation and lined up in a double row. With another order they raised their lasguns to their shoulders and, as one, fired into the sky, giving their comrades a grand salute. Moriah could barely suppress his feelings and he felt his eyes fill with tears. After the salute had been given and the hymn finished, Moriah gave the order to dismiss. First and fourth squads marched back into the fort in parade step and were followed by Moriah and Dennen, whose wheelchair was pushed by Surgeon Alexander. Moriah walked with the wounded soldier and stopped to address him outside of the infirmary.  
"I hope I did your comrades justice, Trooper," he said while looking into the soldier's eyes.  
The trooper looked back at him, unable to speak because of the work done to repair his face, but he drew himself up. Sitting straight up in the wheelchair, Dennen got as close to attention as possible while being seated and gave his Lieutenant a perfect salute while staring into the officer's eyes. Tear began to run down into the bandages around his face as Moriah returned the salute. Then Moriah turned and walked away, heading for the command center. He could feel the emotion boiling inside him and had to get out of the soldier's presence, lest one of his men see him weep.  
By the time he got to the command center he had composed himself enough to face his men.  
"Lieutenant Moriah, sir," a tech priest called to him as he entered the room. The man was seated at a console and was waving to the officer.  
He crossed the room to the young adept, "Yes, Priest Turmelle?"  
"Sir, a dropship is coming in from the south and requesting permission to land. The Pilot says he is carrying a Captain Iveson who has orders for you from Regimental Headquarters."  
This was very interesting. Why would regimental headquarters send his orders via a messenger rather than use the vox. Moriah was certain that they could be using the dropship for more important purposes. And Captain seemed a high rank for such a menial task.  
"Tell the pilot that he is cleared to land. I will be waiting for them at the fort landing pad."  
  
Chapter 4  
Moriah put his hand on his head to keep his cap from blowing away as the Imperial dropship came in low over the fort's small landing area. He was worried that the pilot may not have the skill to park the large vessel on the pad, which was designed to handle smaller craft. Vance and Hammond stood behind him and all three were still wearing their dress uniforms. The men on the walls cheered for the ship as it circled the skies above the fort. The Lieutenant hoped they would not be disappointed when they found out it was not carrying reinforcements and only a single messenger.  
Moriah watched the dropship make its final turn and come in for a landing. With a loud blast from its thrusters it pulled into a perfect hover over the pad, but instead of settling in for a landing the ship surprised Moriah by opening a hatch in its rear and expelling a rope. He was even more surprised to see a person climb out of the hatch and fast rope to the ground, landing neatly and immediately disengaging the rope from his harness. As soon as the soldier was free from the rope the dropship's engines flared and it shot into the sky, heading south at a terrific speed. It had taken less than ten seconds for the ship to drop off its passenger and Moriah was left standing speechless with his sergeants as the figure approached them.  
Coming to his senses, the Lieutenant strode forward to meet the person who he could only assume was Captain Iveson. The officer wore jet black carapace armor and a helmet complete with a visor and rebreather, which totally obscured his face. Moriah could see that he was well equipped. Iveson carried a full pack and a hellpistol hung from his belt, marking him as a stromtrooper. This made Moriah even more curious because not one of the companies in his regiment had stormtroopers attached to it. He had never seen a stormtrooper in black armor before and his eyes strained as he searched for unit markings, but he found only rank markings and a nametag displayed on the left half of the soldier's breastplate. He also spotted the large head of a battle axe that was strapped to Iveson's back, hardly the standard issue close combat weapon of any regiment he had ever seen. Once they got close enough Moriah halted and drew himself to attention, offering a salute that was perfectly mimicked by the sergeants behind him. The stormtrooper captain also paused to return the salute.  
"Sir," Moriah began, "Welcome. I am Lieutenant Eli Moriah and these are my sergeants, Clayton Vance, and Isaiah Hammond."  
Iveson did not respond immediately. Instead the Captain reached up and began to remove his helmet. Moriah was glad; it was uncomfortable to interact with an expressionless mask, especially with the mystery already surrounding the visitor. The officer pulled off the helmet and Moriah was given the biggest shock of the day, Iveson was a woman.  
Her black hair had a short but feminine cut, and the tan skin of her face covered high cheek bones and made her dark brown almond shaped eyes stand out. He tried to contain his shock, but he was certain that it was apparent on his face. Moriah had never before seen anyone with facial features like hers and he had absolutely never seen a female stormtrooper, officer or otherwise.  
Either she missed his surprise or she was used to getting such reactions because she did not show any abnormal reaction as she offered her hand and introduced herself.  
"Captain Lucretia Iveson, Ordos Xenos."  
Behind Moriah, Sergeant Hammond drew a sharp breath. The Inquisition was respected and feared by every citizen of the Imperium. The ultimate extension of the Emperor's hand, Inquisitors fought heretics, daemons, and aliens. They had the power to command any Imperial citizen, including soldiers of the Imperial Guard and even the mighty Space Marines of the Adeptus Astardes and the Titan Legions. While Iveson may not be an inquisitor herself she was a symbol of their ultimate power. Now Moriah understood her non-regulation weapons and uniform.  
"I was told you were sent by regimental command," Moriah said as he took her hand. Her grip was firm and the armored gauntlet she wore was quite intimidating.  
"Technically I sent myself," Iveson responded with a faint smile. "It is usually easier to cover my arrivals with a little subterfuge. I hope you will forgive me, you would never believe some of the things that people do when they hear a representative of the inquisition is coming to pay them a visit."  
"I understand, ma'am," Moriah said as he released her hand.  
"I was passing through this system when I heard about your ork trouble, so I contacted your General Redinger and told him that the inquisition would help end the ork menace here."  
Moriah was about to ask how she planned on doing that, but she spoke again before he could.  
"Why don't you show me to my quarters so that I can stow my gear. I'll take any questions you have after I have gotten out of this bloody armor."  
"Of course, ma'am," Moriah replied. "A room is being prepared for you as we speak, Sergeant Hammond will show you the way."  
"Thank you, Lieutenant," Iveson said with a nod. The captain turned away from him and followed her guide into the fort.  
Once she was inside, Master Sergeant Vance spoke his mind, "I didn't know what to expect, sir. But this sure wasn't it."  
"My thoughts exactly, sergeant," Moriah replied as he began walking off of the landing pad.  
  
* * *  
Lieutenant Moriah had just gotten off of the vox with Sergeant Jeske when Captain Iveson appeared in the command center. He had taken a few minutes to change out of his dress uniform and into some fatigues before going to the communications room to hear the scout's regular report. Iveson had removed her carapace armor, which Moriah knew from experience was bulky and uncomfortable, and now wore jet black fatigues. She still carried the hellpistol in a holster under her left arm, but had exchanged the huge axe for a long curved knife that hung from her belt. She still had a sinister appearance, but Moriah felt much less intimidated by her presence than he had out on the landing pad.  
"Captain," he said in greeting.  
"Lieutenant," she responded as she crossed over to where he was standing over a map table. The table had a picot-graph of the surrounding area displayed on its surface. The map had been stored in the fort's computer system and had been recalled by one of the tech priests.  
"Were your quarters acceptable, ma'am?"  
"There were still a couple servitors in it when I got there, but it will be adequate, thank you. And please Lieutenant, ma'am is acceptable, but I do prefer Captain."  
"Yes, Captain."  
"Thank you," she said with that same faint smile she had worn on the landing pad. "Now before we get to the questions I know you have brewing in your head, let me clear the air of one thing."  
"Yes, Captain," Moriah replied. He appreciated her easy-going manner. It had been a stressful enough situation without having to deal with a member of the inquisition, but she seemed to be making an effort to be frank with him.  
"I am not here to take your command away from you. These are your men and I know that they will respond better to your orders than to mine, even with the reputation of the inquisition backing me up. I am here as a personal advisor to you. Ending the ork threat on this world is very important and I want things to go smoothly between us. Are we clear?"  
"Yes, Captain." Her words had made Moriah feel much better about the situation.  
"Now," she said, looking down at the map table. "What are we looking at here? I read a brief overview about this planet on my way down from orbit, but I'm afraid I am not familiar with the geography."  
Moriah was pleased to show her anything she needed. Stories of the inquisition had given its members a reputation as great, all-knowing beings, but by asking for his help, Captain Iveson had assured him of her humanity and made it much more comfortable for him to work with her.  
"Well, Captain. This is us." He pointed to a red symbol on the eastern side of the map. "Around us to the north, south, and east are the foothills of a great mountain range that stretches throughout the northern area of this continent. I'm afraid I don't know the local name for them." He moved hand west of the fort icon, running his fingers over a huge expanse of green. "This is what the people of this planet call the Western Forest. It is separated from us by three kilometers of open plain and it stretches for hundreds of kilometers to the west and south. In the far south there are huge lumber industries, but up here there's nothing in the forest but trees and wild animals."  
"And orks," she added seriously.  
"And now orks," he agreed with an equally grim tone. 


End file.
